


I don’t know how to make things right. so I’ll just keep pretending that nothing’s wrong. (you know that I’m no good)

by fauchevalent



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Crit Role Rarepair Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 12:38:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11989965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauchevalent/pseuds/fauchevalent
Summary: Keyleth is arm in arm with her father as he walks her toward her groom - it is when her eyes land on Vax that her breath catches in her chest. She doesn't let the rest of the scene play out.Soft footsteps settle into the pews behind her, and Keyleth pretends her eyes don't sting.





	I don’t know how to make things right. so I’ll just keep pretending that nothing’s wrong. (you know that I’m no good)

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for the platonic day of critrole rare pair week! hope you enjoy :)

The church is quiet and dark, and every breath Keyleth takes seems to echo off the walls back to her. Candlesticks shine golden and the altar before her has four tall, marble steps.  
She never thinks of herself in relation to religion, really, and by extension, she hardly considers herself against the backdrop of a sparkling set of churchbells and stained glass windows. It's just...  _difficult_ , really, now more than ever, to look a church in the eye. Not that Ashari marriage ceremonies are all white dress, big veil, " _Here Comes The Bride_ ," but Keyleth's familiar with the ordeal, and it's hard to say she's never imagined it. She does it again now, as the sun sets through the brilliant colors of a Pelor silhouette.   
In her mind's eye, Keyleth is arm in arm with her father as he walks her toward her groom - it is when her eyes land on Vax that her breath catches in her chest. She doesn't let the rest of the scene play out.  
Soft footsteps settle into the pews behind her, and Keyleth pretends her eyes don't sting.

"How are you doing," Percy asks, and a breath of a laugh escapes her lips before she can catch it. It's too late to chase it now, as it bounces across the room, hitting ceiling tiles and marble staircases in the extended quiet. "Keyleth," he begins, but she doesn't want his pity. She turns to see it reflected in his eyes, apologies stuck in the corner of his lips.

"Stop." She mutters, and thankfully, Percy obeys. "Just... stop," she says again, anyway, and then she shoulders her way out from under his hand. 

For a man with a million words, Percy really doesn't know what to say.

The church is quiet again while he just  _looks_ at her, like she's supposed to be helping him out here, just looks at her like he wants a clue or a hand or  _a way out, probably_ \- she bites into her lip and offers nothing. Both of them are brimming, just under the surface, with tension, and somewhere in the back of her head Keyleth knows better than to make this a fight now, knows it can only go wrong, but the rest of her doesn't care. Wants more than anything to yell and scream and cry until her throat is sore and her eyes are empty, wants her friend to sit here and take it, because  _god, does she need her best friend right now._ There is a part of Keyleth that wishes it wasn't Percy who was married. She wishes she could curse the person who did it, go find them outside this church and give them a piece of her mind until her tongue was dry and her fists were bloody, and have her best friend there by her side the whole time.   
But Keyleth doesn't need to go find the man who wronged her. Because he's right here. And she doesn't need to ask her best friend for support, either, because he's right here too, and that's the meat of it, really, isn't it? Percy would let her wring him dry if she asked, but she couldn't, not in a million years. Instead, they're just  _sitting here_ , two idiots in a church.  
He hasn't spoken yet, and she's fairly certain it's because he doesn't want to misstep, but the truth of the matter is he already has, and he can't take it back. What's done is done, and as much as Percy and Keyleth alike would love to fix it - there's nothing to fix. The step has already been missed, much to Keyleth's dismay.

"You love her," she says eventually, and her voice sounds distant, like someone from the marble steps is calling down to them.  
"I do." Percy says, and then he's silent for a moment before he adds, "and we never thought we'd do any harm."

That's all it takes, really.

"Because you never thought, did you? You two went gallivanting the fuck off to  _who knows where_ , and you were bound in holy goddamn matrimony! You didn't think for a second that we are in the middle of a goddamn  _war_ , Percy. We're in the middle of a battle and we don't have time to fuck around! You know what, I know that you love her -" Keyleth's voice shakes and she ignores it - "I  _do_ , Percy, I  _know_ , but you don't get to have your fucking happy ending just because of love. Did you know that? Did you know that just because you love someone, doesn't mean everything goes  _hunky-fucking-dory_ , Percy?"

"I'm sorry we lost Vax - "

"Are you? Are you fucking sorry for me, Percy? Did you even have a moment to spare to feel sorry for me while you were playing fucking  _house_? You couldn't even tell us. You couldn't even tell us you were married. Are we that unimportant, Percy? You didn't have time to tell us? Or were you worried we'd ask you to wait? God forbid you fucking  _wait,_ Percy!"

"Look, Keyleth, I know you're angry, but don't say something you don't mean - "

"You're goddamn right I'm angry! You think I wouldn't have loved to fuck off to who knows where and at least have a little piece of the man I loved? You know what we have now, Percy? His fucking  _ashes_! The man I loved is in a jar in Grog's fucking pocket, Percy, I don't want to hear  _shit_ about my anger."

Percy is quiet for a moment, folding his arms over his chest and looking at Keyleth for a moment. "Would you like to hear what I think, Keyleth?"

The answer, they both know, is  _probably not at this particular moment_ , but she heaves a tired sigh and gestures widely. "Fine."

"I think you're grieving - " he holds up a hand to silence her impending rage, and she leaves it bubbling behind closed lips. "I think you're grieving, and I think you wish you'd had more time, that you're going back over your whole life with him and thinking 'could I have known earlier,' and 'could I have held him closer -' you're wondering, 'could it have been me, instead of him, shouldn't it have been,' and the answer to all the above is  _no_ , Keyleth. Neither of us are particularly religious, I know, but fate works in mysterious ways. Sometimes it hands us a shit deal. You loved him - you still do - and that is all any of us can do. Do I lie awake at night sometimes, holding Vex, hoping to God it's me before it's her? Yes, Keyleth, Gods, so many nights - but I can't... I can't change it, if it isn't. I love her, and you loved Vax, and the words that bind us together may have been different, but the ties were not. Was it careless for Vex and I to get married in the middle of this mess? Yes, gods,  _so careless_ \- " He sighs and reaches out to intertwine his fingers between Keyleth's. "But we did it because we needed something to hold onto. A life boat in this fucking hurricane. And for Vex and I, that was a word - that was being able to say to each other  _husband_ and  _wife_ \- but it doesn't make what you and Vax had any less important just because that wasn't the same for you."

Keyleth stands, keeping a hold of Percy's hand, and moves to the pew beside him. "Why do you have to be so goddamn wise all the time, Percy?"  
"Oh, dear, then you haven't been listening to  _half_ of what I say," he replies, and she leans her head on his shoulder. 

"I miss him," she says, her voice heavy with tears, and Percy squeezes her hand.  
"I know."

"Percy?" She looks sidelong at him and blinks. "Does it - does losing someone - does it ever get easier?"  
He considers it. "The weight, the guilt - it's hard to lessen that. But the feeling that you're never going to get up again, that gets a little easier everyday. Because they're always in your heart, and in a lot of the things you do."

She smiles, a little teary. "Gonna put him right next to Mom."  
"I'm sure he'd like that."


End file.
